Great Expectations
by Cirthe
Summary: CONTINUED ON MY NEW ACCOUNT, RHYMED.
1. Humble Beginnings

_Disclaimer_: Anne-MacCaffrey-and-her-son-Todd-MacCaffrey-the-darn-new-heir-of-Pern-but-still-not-the-original-mastermind-jolly-well-own-blessed-everything-except-for-a-few-little-tidbits-which-I-can-safely-call-mine-breathes-which-I-have-to-confess-I-hope-you-enjoy. Did I say I don't own Pern?

_Summary_: Failure wasn't an option. Katel knew that with every fibre of his being. But the chance, like so many times before, was being torn from him. Suddenly, he had a dragon, but the trials had only just begun. So began the tale of a boy who would have to grow into a legacy – all in a Turn…

**_Chapter One: Humble Beginnings _**

The sands were hot. They always were. From the shadows at the side of the hatching grounds, Katel could feel their merciless heat on his face, and he was reminded of other Hatchings, where the others had walked from the arena with their lifemate, and he had retreated to disgrace and his uncle's wrath. Again, and again.

The faces of the anxious crowd were blank to him. He was only aware of the iron grip of his uncle's supposedly reassuring grip on his thin shoulder, and the thought that Joran would not tolerate another failure from his small nephew. It had taken many of Joran's contacts and much persuasion to let the fourteen-year-old onto the sands as a candidate once more, after failing so many times. Short, small and slender, Katel was a disappointment to his broad-shouldered guardian in more ways than one. His youthful features were smooth and finely sculpted, almost girlish. Like his mother.

Katel shoved the thought away furiously. Now was not the time to be thinking of her, not when he was supposed to be concentrating on the eggs. The dragons' presence became more pronounced as their humming rose in urgency, and Katel found himself shoved onto the hatching grounds with the others, his white robe still in the humid air. It gripped him in its sweaty folds as he stumbled nearer to the rocking clutch. Those who were first-time candidates shuffled nervously as Narath, her eyes blazing, whipped the sand around her into a frenzied whirlwind. _Another protective dam, _Katel thought wearily. Shards, was he in trouble.

But the queen stopped suddenly, as though checked by a command no one else could hear. The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. Of _course _she had been. Jamara, her rider, was standing on the heights above her she-dragon, her face slightly blank as she soothed her.

And then, quite suddenly, the dragons' humming had stopped. The _thrum_ of the vibrating air around Katel's head told him it had stopped quite suddenly, and recently, and he dragged his attention back to the now cracking eggs. He remembered, in a flash, who was waiting by the entrance to the hatching grounds, and what would happen if he didn't Impress – and Impress well.

"It has to be a bronze, boy." Joran's firm tone had brooked no argument. Any other colour would be… unthinkable. It would also be a Very Bad Thing. Joran's smile had been thin, and cold. "But I am sure that you will not fail me this time, Katel. It will not even be a brown. _It will be bronze._"

The words echoed in Katel's head as he watched a dragonet clumsily fall onto the sands, deeply hued with sunshine. His desperate plea went unheard as the bronze looked unseeingly past him to another. _Impression_, Katel thought bitterly. His hands clenched, the nails biting deep into his skin. A great crack rendered another egg formless as another small dragon screeched and wobbled towards the white-robed boys.

_Please, _his mind screamed. _You must hear my voice. Look at me!_ And it seemed for a tantalising, brilliant moment that the miniature bronze had heard him, for it looked at him intently for a second. But it was only to pass the rainbow-whirling gaze onto a curly-haired lad much taller than him, and to tumble into arms far stronger than his own. He felt rather than heard the delight in the boy's voice as he announced his lifemate's name.

A gasp rippled around the watching crowd as the queen egg, shining pale gold on the hot sands, trembled in its place, and slowly, ever so slowly, began to crack. One moment the egg was solid, and the next, a tiny fury had emerged in a shower of eggshards, streaking towards the hapless girls who cowered in the sands.

Narath's daughter snarled ferociously as her clumsy claws caught in tender skin, and a shriek of pain bloodied the air. The little queen tumbled in a tangle of claws and wings to land, quite unexpectedly, in the lap of a tall girl who had knelt to help her friend. She stiffened momentarily, but that was gone in an instant as she suddenly cradled the ungainly head with her arms as though the queen was terribly delicate. As though she hadn't just savaged a girl.

Katel was numb. His body was already shutting down: his vision was distinctly blurred, though whether with tears or the sudden, odd exhaustion he couldn't know. To have been on the sands so many times, and not to Impress… He turned to leave, defeated once more.

And promptly fell over a dragon.

Well, it was a dragonet, really. But rather large, for what it was. It crooned at him anxiously, and he wondered vaguely why he could feel its distress. _His_ distress. And then he knew. He bent down to look at the eyes, tinged yellow, and stretched out a small hand to stroke the muzzle extended to him, longing for contact – for his touch. He suddenly laughed, and Keth butted him in the stomach, blinking at the silvery tears that were falling on his nose. His very blue nose.

Suddenly Katel's tears weren't of joy. He stumbled away, blinded with the salty rivulets running down his face, and he heard a horrified bleat behind him.

_Don't leave me! _

Keth's anguished voice as he realised his lifemate was running away from _him, _the one who made him complete, was like nothing Katel had ever experienced. Suddenly, Katel knew that he couldn't continue. _If I go now, it would kill him. _He glanced at the shadows. _But Joran will half-kill me anyway._ He didn't realise that he had fallen to his knees again. He only knew, with some instinct, that the only someone whose touch he dreaded losing was right here, trembling before him, his beautiful, beautiful blue hide glittering in the sunlight.

He chose then. And knew, with deadly certainty, even as Keth's head thankfully found his chest and burrowed into it, that he would pay dearly.

He also knew, with equal conviction, that he didn't care.

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Author's note: Hey y'all. Just wanted to put this fic up because it was nagging at my brain to type it up. I'm a slave to my muse, really. Even if you didn't enjoy it, I would like to know why. And, to be honest, I would much rather know if you _did _like it. It makes for nicer reading, an' all that.

P.S. I _will_ start calling Katel 'K'tel' in the next chapter. I just felt that he wouldn't feel right being someone completely new until he'd completely accepted Keth. :)


	2. Author's Note

Hey, readers! Just to let you know that I've recovered the details to this account (as you can see), and am beginning this gorgeous little ficlet again on my new one: Rhymed. Any questions/comments should go to that account from now on!

Thanks for your continued support,

Rachel


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